


A Treatise on the Wonderments of Curl Creek

by TheWillow0421



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Cabins, Dark Fantasy, Fae & Fairies, Forests, Magical Realism, My First AO3 Post, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 16:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20312692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWillow0421/pseuds/TheWillow0421
Summary: The campers in Cabin #12 write a treatise in an attempt to protect their friend after a supernatural event. A flash fiction story.





	A Treatise on the Wonderments of Curl Creek

**An Introduction **

We’ve been asked to give our account on what happened, so we decided to write a treatise. Luz and Mac don’t think I’m using the term correctly. Luz says a treatise is a like a candy (literally as she eats candy), but Mac thinks a treatise should only focus on one subject and knowing me, I’ll take a hard left at some point. I think a treatise is like the word “entreat,” which my Mom taught me earlier this year. She entreated me not to go to summer camp this year. She said I needed space from what happened last year. But I threatened that if I didn’t go, I’d never forgive her. To entreat is to ask someone, anxiously, or earnestly, to do something. Just as we at Cabin #12 are entreating you to let our cabin mate, Olya, keep her box.

The counselors think Olya is playing stupid games for stupid reasons. The other kids are threatening to either beat her up or pay her their allowance money to see what’s inside the box. She’s happy to talk about them – let her talk about them! – but she refuses to show them, and that should be ok, too. They are her Wonderments. 

The point of this pamphlet is to let Senior Manager Evinrude Jacobson know that the counselors are full of it and there’s nothing wrong with Olya and her box of Wonderments. What happened was not her fault. There’s a week left of camp, and we at Cabin #12 believe Olya should be left in peace. Otherwise she’ll have a panic attack like she did last summer, and nobody wants to see the shit she was able to pull off the last time her nerves got in a tizzy. 

**An Exposition**

Olya said she found the Wonderments at Curl Creek two days after camp started. Olya likes to collect rocks by the shoreline, as everyone knows, and she said she lifted a large stone and found them all there. Mac, Luz, and I were all swimming in the creek at that point. Olya asked Mac to go get a box and they did. Mac wants to let it be known that they did not steal the “Eileen’s Green Beans” box. It’s a form of recycling, which is what Counselor Kiersten always preaches us to do.

The Wonderments chilled in the box underneath Olya’s bed for a couple weeks, and at first it was a little weird. In the middle of the night we heard sounds. Like a chirping old music box. Then Olya brought insects and even mice, which she dropped into the box with a smile. Luz, Mac, and I cover our ears now. The “mmmm” sound mixed with a toothy engine whine is not something you want in your head after lights out. The insects and mice disappeared. Olya said the Wonderments were hungry. 

Olya carried the box with her at all times and other camp goers got curious. A week ago, Bradley Pratt was able to stuff in a little BB in one of the holes of the box. 

Olya yelled “No!” 

It only took a few seconds between when the BB went in and when Olya plucked it out, but by then the damage was already done. The BB had been filleted, the metal carved, bent, and flattened like an orange rind. It was no longer a dull metal but polished and bright. I pushed Pratt out of the way as Mac and Luz nudged Olya to our cabin.

“He shouldn’t tempt them,” Olya had said, sobbing. 

Luz tucked an arm around Olya’s shoulder. Luz started singing, which usually calms us all down. 

“They really don’t like to be tempted,” Olya kept repeating. 

We tried to tell Olya it wasn’t a good idea to bring the box everywhere, but she said the Wonderments like fresh air and the color of the sky. She wouldn’t let us look, though, and we’re okay with that. We’ve heard enough to know she’s not making this up. We’ve heard the music and the god-awful tooth sounds. We even heard something like tap-dancing come out of the box, as if there were dozens of feet shuffling along a wood floor. 

All in the middle of the night. Honestly, we don’t sleep well. 

Mac and I have taken up coffee for the first time, fumbling with cream and sugar at the coffee stand in the cafeteria. Counselor Marsha said coffee will stunt my growth but she drinks like four cups a day and is tall as hell. I don’t get why adults go bananas for this stuff, but it sure helps survive Counselor Marsha’s craft classes and Counselor David’s hiking expeditions. 

Of course, since the BB incident, Pratt got it in his head that he was going to see what’s in the box no matter what. He followed Olya. He threw pebbles at us when we swam in Curl Creek, while Olya sat on the shore with the box tucked to her side. We called him Snot-Licker and Buzzkill-Douchebag, but he kept on. 

I don’t like Olya’s eyes when she feels backed into a corner. Her panic attacks aren’t just a thing she can control. She can’t just “not worry” as so many Counselors ask her to do. Last summer wasn’t her fault. This summer wasn’t her fault. This isn’t some three-strike rule. The problem is, between one summer and the next, people forgot everything they learned.  
Bradley Pratt should’ve known better.

He got it in his head to sneak in our cabin three nights ago. He thought he could swipe the box and make out like thief. The dude’s not even quiet. He practically galloped into our cabin. Mac tried to tackle him, but he shook them off, and they skinned their knee on a splinter in the floor. He elbowed Luz in the eye and that’s why it’s swollen shut. I jumped from my bed to tackle him but landed on my ankle wrong. By then, Olya had cradled the box into her lap. We watched, clutching our wounds, strewn about our cabin. Our Olya, whimpering like the mice she gave to the Wonderments. Pratt ripped the box from her like it was nothing. Because Olya doesn’t fight, she reacts. Her shoulders started shaking when he opened the top of the box and reached in. 

That’s when Pratt started screaming. That’s when Olya started screaming, when we all started screaming. That’s where all the blood came from.

**In Conclusion**

It was not a fucking bear that took Pratt’s arm. We’re not stupid enough to leave food out at our door. I told Olya we shouldn’t say this but she said she doesn’t want any bears being hunted. That’s our Olya. That’s the type of person she is and the type of person this camp does not deserve. The Wonderments were protecting her as much as they were protecting themselves. They heard Olya screaming, and when Olya screams it sounds like a forest burning to the ground. 

But hey, sure don’t’ believe any of this. Maybe it’s “Olya being Olya” as everyone says. Maybe there was, in fact, a bear. Maybe Pratt’s babbling is just a case of good old-fashioned shock. If that’s the case then we at Cabin #12 ask entreat you leave Olya alone. Don’t take away the box. Don’t even open the box. Don’t throw in anything unless it’s insects or mice. As my mother told me before I begged her to return to camp, “It’s better to leave well enough alone.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by–but not based on in any way–reading the book The Secret Commonwealth or A Treatise Displaying the Chief Curiosities Among the People of Scotland As They Are In Use to This Day by Robert Kirk. 
> 
> It was a book originally published in 1815, where a reverend collects the lore of fairies and the like by his parishioners. Great inspiration for those who enjoy fairy tales and folklore! The New York Review Books has a great recent edition.


End file.
